You're probably sick of hearing about it.
But it is still out there. It still happens.
It happened to me. I used to think it was fictional, like something that only happened in books and movies.
Then I dared to sit at the popular kids lunch table in sixth grade. With them. (I know, how could I?!)
The words I could almost handle. The carpet burn on my chin from being tripped burned pretty bad though; and the blackmail was not that bad. I held onto hope that my teachers would notice, that they would say something at parent teacher conferences. But all they did was rave about how many friends I had. Are your friends supposed to make you do their work for them and threaten to make your life *more* miserable?
One counselor meeting was all it took to make it all stop. Nearly nine months of torture and all it took was thirty minutes to finish it.
The bullies were still there - they just knew better than to bother with me; I didn't react, so I wasn't worth it.
Now I'm a junior in college, and the bullies are back (not the same people, of course).
I knew they would. I just thought it would be different, and I guess it sort of is.
Instead of name calling, its making snide remarks in front of the whole class.
Instead of tripping, its dirty looks while I present my project.
Instead of blackmail, its acting rude and bashing my group and I while we teach our assigned chapter.
And yet I still wait. Wait for you to give up when I don't react. Wait for our professors to say something to you about your behavior. They don't. You think they "love" you and find your sarcastic comments funny like your cohorts do. Well, I can assure you they do not. Our female professor? Confessed to me after class that she could not believe the class' behavior that day - but she looked right at your seat. Our male professor? I sit in his classroom and interact with him 9+ hours a week - and before we went into field experience it was 16+ hours. The looks he gives you may seem just a hair different from the ones he gives everyone else - but it is not a look of amusement.
So I'll keep walking away. And if you really make me mad, I'll shoot you my ring finger. You're not worth the middle finger.